


F*cking Dundee

by itsaquinnquinnsituation



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:03:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsaquinnquinnsituation/pseuds/itsaquinnquinnsituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How would YOU like to spend Christmas staring at the Tesco sign?</p>
            </blockquote>





	F*cking Dundee

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and none of the characters, real or based off real people, belong to me. I do not mean to offend anyone, this is just for entertainment purposes and I am not making any money.
> 
> This is my universe and exactly how I see it. Writing should be enjoyed, not judged.
> 
> This is very much in style of "My lovely land of mist and magic", meaning it's quite slow and psychological and requires lots of filling in the blanks.. and the tone is a bit inconsistent.. so I don't know, you have been warned.

Louis bends down to shove a bottle of Irn Bru into his backpack and straightens up again to fetch his receipt when something off to the side catches his eye. Another lad has placed his own rucksack onto the loading area and the self-service apparatus is screaming at him in its ear-splitting “neutral” digital voice to remove the “unscanned items.” The lad is completely oblivious to the check-out machine’s agony because he is frantically typing away on his iPhone, but he shoves it into his jacket pocket just as Louis decides to warn him about an oncoming hefty Tesco employee who is huffing and puffing like a steam-engine train. Both the Tesco guy and Louis freeze dead in their tracks with their mouths open as the lad zips up his rucksack, lifts up his head and takes in the situation, gaze gliding from one man to the other. Louis manages to close his mouth, and in so doing apparently, aides the lad in deciding to pick him, which he does with a surprisingly quiet:

“Hey.”

“Ugm” – Louis replies reaching for his own backpack. The lad’s gaze follows Louis hands, - “Uh hi.”

Suddenly Louis feels stiff and clumsy and he turns around, lifting his backpack, still unzipped, only to almost collide with the Tesco dude who is still frozen in place, walkie-talkie raised menacingly, like a lightsaber.

“So uh.... going back to the dorms?” – The lad asks, catching up with Louis by the exit door, after the latter finally discovered the unzipped state of his backpack upon turning to.... well, upon turning around.

“Uh... yeah” – Louis replies, squashing the tomatoes with the bottle of Irn Bru in a desperate attempt to make it fit.

“Nasty cold out there!” – the lad replies as he extracts mittens out of his pockets, - “I’m ready for a cup of tea.”

“Yeah” – Louis says as they exit the store. He shoves his own hands into his jacket pockets. 

“So uh... when are you leaving?” – the lad asks, walking alongside Louis.

“Uh... no, I’m not” – Lou replies and after a momentary silence turns to the lad to take in his raised eyebrows, - “Leaving I mean. I’m not leaving.”

“Oh.” – the lad says, looks at him for another second, then burrows his head deeper into his scarf and turns to look in front of him.

“And... you?” – Louis asks cautiously when the pause becomes too awkward.

“Tomorrow” – the lad replies, not looking, - “So I was just getting some snacks for the road.”

“Humnh” – Louis grunts and burrows into his collar. He glances at the lad’s big cozy mittens, - “Excited to see your family?” – he asks after another long pause.

“Somewhat.” – the lad shrugs without looking, - “I did go back about two months ago. Just for the weekend. Well. Five days.”

“That’s... that’s uh... nice... when you’re... when you can, I mean” – Louis responds and winces slightly.

The lad slows down abruptly, forcing Louis to do the same immediately as if they were connected by a rope. The lad blinks several times and then smiles a shy, teasing smile. Louis frowns a little:

“What?”

“No, just” – the lad suddenly breaks off the stare and adjusts his beanie with his mittened hand, - “No, I just... realized... you don’t remember me.”

“Uh” – Louis responds, winces, looks to the side, then comes up with, - “I think we’re friends on facebook!”

“Sure thing!” – the lad laughs, but somewhat bitterly, - “The whole uni is friends on facebook.”

“Nah, I mean it’s... a lot of people... I mean” – Louis waves his hands around, and finally decides to smack the lad on the back prompting him to walk again, - “Okay, you got me.”

The lad shakes his head.

“Nah, I mean” – Louis continues, - “Like I’ve seen you at parties, definitely, so... and you live in the dorms so you must be an international student, and uh... and you’re not on my course!”

“Hm” – the lad says and smiles, continuing to walk and not looking at Louis.

“Okay” – Louis responds exasperatedly, lifting up his ungloved hands, - “I was probably drunk last time we talked, and I do add everyone suggested to me by Facebook, so.... can we start over?”

 

***

 

“You sure about this?” – Louis looks both ways, entering Harry’s dorm flat, as though it would look any different from his own.

“Yeah” – he replies, heading right to the kitchen, light coming on as he walks through the hall, - “No reason to have all that food go to waste. You can take what you can to your flat, if you want. Otherwise, I am throwing it out.”

“None of your roommates are staying?”

“Nah” – Harry shakes his head, - “I’m the last one to go.”

“The dorm will be fucking deserted” – Louis shakes his head, shrugging off his coat onto the chairs, - “Nothing like spending Christmas in this fucking shithole. I wonder if the Union will even bother putting on any events!”

“Sure” – Harry nods, having started boiling the water and now working on rinsing off the mushrooms, - “I’m sure there are plenty of locals around” – He looks at Louis who already stretched out on the chairs in his kitchen, - “Why aren’t you going, anyway?”

“I can’t!” – Louis makes big eyes, - “You realise how expensive a return flight to the US would be? ‘Round Christmas time?”

“Yeah” – Harry presses his lips and turns back to the vegetables, - “I feel lucky to have my family so close.”

“Where are you from?”

“You’ve forgotten already??”

“No, no, I mean, which city?”

“Oh” – Harry laughs a little, - “Wilrijk.”

“What?”

“Wilrijk. Close to Antwerp. Very small place. Were you hoping that I’d say Brussels so you could nod and say ‘Yeah, I’ve been there’ or at least ‘Oh sure, heard of it, good chocolates.’”

“Are they?”

“I prefer speculoos.”

Louis presses his lips and smiles, motioning ‘I give up’ with his hands. Harry laughs.

“I’m far less mysterious” – Louis offers, - “I bet you know more about my hometown than I do.”

“What is it?”

“Well, I’m from the city that most people can only dream of living in. And not just from a town “close enough” but from the very heart of it. New York, New York.”

“Well” – Harry turns to him, stirring the pasta slowly and smiling, - “Heard of it, certainly, but never been and never wanted to go.”

“Oh” – Louis raises his eyebrows.

“Nah” – Harry shrugs, turning back to the boiling pot, - “You know, being from a tiny place, I am not attracted to big cities. Dirt, bustle, noise, pollution, stress... I could see the Statue of Liberty in the pictures if I wanted to.”

Louis blinks. Harry pours the hot water off into the sink. Louis watches him swiftly go about putting the pot back onto the oven and fetching the bowls and silverware.

“Quattro formaggio?” – Harry asks, holding up the can, label facing Louis.

“Sure, will do.”

***

“... and then in the morning, I got a text, saying something like ‘thanks for the night’ and I had to hunt through my friends’ phones to see if I could find out who it was. Turned out I’ve danced with her all night on another occasion. And after both times, I still would not recognize her in the crowd. I must have some kind of a face-blindness. But alcohol is definitely not to blame.”

Harry smiles, sipping his tea:

“You’re quite popular with girls.”

“Maybe” – Louis shrugs, - “Too bad, I don’t like them.”

“Sorry?”

Louis turns to him:

“What?”

“Uh” – Harry says, putting his tea on the coffee table, - “Uh... no, no, uh, I don’t mean like... I would have never thought!”

“What? Why?” – Louis looks genuinely confused.

“No, just the way” – Harry motions with his hands and his accent becomes more pronounced, - “Just when I saw you at the parties, you’re always like... like surrounded by people, and by girls I mean.”

“Maybe” – Louis shrugs and also puts down his tea, - “But I don’t actually like parties that much.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I like to talk to people, but more so in small groups. I hate all the clamour of parties.”

“Clamour?”

“Noise.”

“Uh” – Harry nods, - “I do too” – he lifts his eyes up and thinks for a second, - “But how do you like living in New York then?”

“I hate it.”

“But you said...”

“I never said I liked it” – Louis turns to him with sad eyes, - “I never said that.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but closes it, then asks instead:

“Why don’t you go with one of your friends? For Christmas? Join their family? Surely, you have gotten lots of invites.”

“I haven’t” – Louis says and shrugs. 

“But you have lots of friends here, I mean...”

“On Facebook?”

 

***

 

Louis stands by the window, curtains pulled to the side, and watches a train pass in front of Tesco. He feels like he’s floating, like the night will never end, like his life in New York was nothing but a scene from a last weekend’s movie. He thinks about screaming and wonders if anyone would hear him, or if it’s only him and the Belgian lad left in the whole building. “You’re not who I thought you were” – the lad said as they stood much in the same manner in front of the window in his kitchen just an hour ago, bright glowing letters of the Tesco sign being the only evidence of life around them. Louis did not question this remark, did not comment on its bluntness and ambiguous meaning, did not wonder, just what this lad, who had clearly had some interest in him for quite a long time, as it seems, thought of him as he watched him quietly from the side. Louis did not let his mind dig deeper into the reasons behind his own behaviour tonight, telling this curious stranger some of his more private thoughts, because - what the hell – he had a whole Christmas to get through...

Louis turns briefly to throw a glance on a top shelf running along the wall of his room, populated with various unfinished bottles of alcohol. He wonders. He wonders what has gotten into him tonight. He wonders how it so happened that one by one, all of his four hundred some friends on Facebook had trickled away to their hometowns, leaving him standing in fucking Dundee, staring at a Tesco. He wonders which Louis people prefer. He wonders which Louis he really is. The Louis that laughs louder than the music at the parties and does not remember inviting people over to spend the night, or the Louis who really thinks he would not mind spending a good couple of months in Wilrijk... He wonders which Louis he'd rather be.

 

***

 

He is sitting on the windowsill in his kitchen with a mug of instant coffee, staring outside the window when a buzzer rings. He spills a bit of coffee and cursing, gets up to go and get it. 

“No fucking way they deliver on Sundays!” – he says to himself, patiently waiting by the door, but nothing comes through the mail opening, instead, there’s a knock. He opens without asking, thinking there can’t be anyone but the management left around the uni, and takes a full step back upon seeing the visitor.

“Can I come in?” – his visitor asks.

“W-Why are you here?” – Louis steps back to give way, but rephrases it, noting a look of concern on the Belgian lad’s face, - “No, I mean, did something happen?”

“No” – the lad replies with hesitation and they stand in silence.

“Please don’t say you decided to stay here because of me, because I can’t stand it...”

“... I didn’t...”

“...when people feel sorry for me...”

“... I don’t...”

Louis winces, shakes his head and looks at Harry again:

“You realise what you’re doing, right? You can’t seriously be choosing to spend Christmas in fucking Dundee, staring at a Tesco through the window, instead of skating on a nice outdoor ice rink and drinking hot chocolate in Wilrijk!”

Harry smiles at the end of that sentence and Louis still hesitates for a second, but then does too and even more so when Harry notes, gently:

“You remembered my town correctly. But not that I don’t really like chocolate.”

“I thought you were joking.”

“I wasn’t. I brought you something. May I? But I would need some help.”

Harry shows him a LIDL bag and Louis just motions for him to come into the kitchen. He follows Harry, smiling and shaking his head. 

 

***

 

They stand by the window in Louis’ kitchen, and stare at the Tesco sign. Harry said that it is snowing in Wilrijk, but it’s windy and rainy in Dundee. Skinny naked trees are being blown down almost to the ground and the place looks barren and desolate. Louis takes his eyes off the landscape outside and sneaks a quick glance at Harry. Harry is smiling, lost in his own thoughts. Louis smiles too and doesn’t notice it. Harry did not bring him anything special, just some speculoos-imitation cookies that he got earlier at LIDL – ‘nothing like the real Belgian ones’ – he made sure to warn. That didn’t really matter though, Louis thought, looking at him scotch-taping hangers onto the floor lamp. He didn’t quite get the whole idea until Harry had finished decorating this monster with scarves, belts and socks and turned off the ceiling light, and damn, it really did look faintly like a Christmas tree, and Louis laughed until his stomach hurt and Harry smiled a little, saying:

“But it’ll do, right? I mean it’s better than nothing at all, is it not?”

“This” – Louis said then, eyeing Harry wrapping some white paper towels around the base of the floor lamp, - “Is as good as it gets.”

“Meaning, it’s okay, right? Like if these are all the materials that we have?”

“No” – Louis said firmly, making sure that Harry is looking him straight in the eye, - “Meaning that I really can’t imagine anything better.”


End file.
